Atlas
by caylender
Summary: "They're always fighting, aren't they? ...How does it feel knowing that they are this close to calling it quits? This close to splitting up the Shield? And where would that leave you, Seth?" My take on the events leading up the the Shield's dissolution.


This ended up being much, much longer than I had anticipated. Like tripled the expected length? Yeah, holy cheese puffs, Batman, it grew large. I also played with some things stylistically. :)

 **Fault:** For the first time in a long time, I cannot blame the good Captain for this piece. Weird, right? She pointed out to me that this is the first time since Shatter that Dream that I can truthfully say that. This means apparently when left to my own devices, I write angst...

I think this is a tie in with Shattered that Dream and Captain's Fear of Being Forgotten. But it would precede them.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own anything affiliated with the WWE. *shrugs* It's okay though; we've established that everything would turn to crack with me in charge.

* * *

Sometimes, the world felt heavy.

The density of every substance tripled and weighed down materials that would normally be light. Air was stifling. Oxygen and hydrogen suddenly could rival the atomic weights of the heavy metals that were only in existence in laboratories, and it suddenly became challenging to breathe.

When the world grew in density, the thoughts would begin to surface into the forefront of his psyche.

 _You're not good enough_. The troll's face was sly and a smirk played across his lips.

 _I know. I know_ , Seth would think in response, and he would make a mental note to add another two reps onto his workout later that evening.

However, adding reps could only help so much.

 _Dean could talk circles around you._ The troll sneered at him.

Seth would mentally nod as he watched- no, listened- no, experienced the wonder that is Dean Ambrose on the mic, delivering a promo. He would try to add an extra "oomph" into his delivery to attempt to compete with Dean.

 _Just look at Roman. He is royalty; he is meant to be the face of the company._ The troll braced his hands on his knees as he bent over in laughter; his long hair falling into his face.

 _You have a point there,_ Seth would think in response. He'd decide to add another three miles onto an endurance run in the hopes that exhaustion would quell the troll.

Sometimes, the world felt very heavy.

After taking that nice, long endurance run, he leaned against the wall next to his hotel room door. He was trying to control his breathing to avoid any (well-meaning but unsolicited) inquiries about his whereabouts and activities. What would be more awkward than trying to explain that he felt inferior to his teammates, so he went on a two-and-a-half hour run? Nothing came to mind.

 _Feel better now, oh great Architect? Did you finally shut me up after that last mile? Did you finally grow a pair and develop some real self-worth?_ Seth groaned at the appearance of the voice, causing the little troll to snort. _I'll take that as a definite 'no'._

 _Shut up,_ Seth grounded out.

 _I don't think I will… Hey! Did you ever notice how you're basically dead weight? If you ever try to dissolve the Shield, I bet Roman and Dean would laugh at you. Because face it, you're nothing._

"Fuck!"

The room door creaked open, and Dean's concerned face appeared. "Seth?"

Seth scrubbed a hand across his face. "Hey, man, what's up?"

"I was just thinking about going down to the vending machines when I heard you… Did you just cuss someone out?" Dean was studying his face, intently.

Seth shrugged. "Just myself, I guess. I was kind of lagging on my run. I'm just frustrated."

Dean shook his head, frowning slightly before he moved over, so there was room for Seth to enter the room. "You going to stand out there all night?"

Seth forced himself to smile. "Nah, course not," he mumbled as he slowly walked past the Lunatic Fringe, missing the worried look Dean shot at him.

Sometimes, the world felt very, very heavy.

The troll was laughing so hard that he was tearing up from where he stood off on the apron next to Roman. _Do you honestly think anyone will remember you after the Shield splits?_ The troll tucked blond and dark brown strands of hair behind his ears; all traces of laughter disappeared from his brown eyes.

Seth tried not wince as he took in all of the cheering fans in the arena. He saw the "Ambooty" signs and heard the Roman Reigns chants. _Someone might. They're not just going to drop me._

The troll snorted. _Oh, they won't just drop you. It'll be more degrading than that._

 _More degrading?_ Seth hung on the apron, waiting for a tag and his fingers tattooing a rhythm onto the rope. _You're so full of shit. I've earned my spot. I deserve to be here._

 _Sure you have, Rollins. But even if you've deluded yourself into thinking you believe that load of shit, the fact remains that no one recognizes it where it matters. You're no one's favorite: no one in corporate and no one in the stands. A few years down the road, you'll take a nice long look at your life and your career and realize. You know what you'll realize? While you're off jobbing for Curtis Axel and tag teaming with Zack Ryder, Dean and Roman are getting title shots…Successful title shots. They won't even notice that you're not by their side. And you won't even have a Plan B since you never finished college, did you? Wrestling is all you have. Sure, if it doesn't work out in the WWE, maybe the independent circuits will pick you up… Or maybe they'll shy away from that guy… Oh what was his name? That sad, forgotten third member of the Shield? Sam? No, something more biblical…Saul? Oh no, it's-_

 _"_ Seth?" Roman's voice muttered. "You okay?"

Seth froze and took in the fact that he was breathing so heavily, so rapidly, and he hadn't even been tagged in the match yet. He consciously tried to slow down his breaths, but it was difficult because the air was so heavy, so dense. Seth glanced over at Roman. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Roman looked like he didn't believe that for one second, and his forehead creased in worry, but before he could say anything further, Dean tagged Seth in.

After the match concluded and the three had staggered backstage, Seth could breathe easier.

"Seth, you okay? You looked lost out there." Roman studied him.

Seth gingerly rubbed his jaw, still sore from that vicious knee he had received earlier. "I'm fine, man."

"You sure? It's not-"

"Jeez, Roman, give the guy a break. What are you his mother?" Dean cut in.

"Watch it," Roman said, lowly.

It was just, sometimes, the world felt too heavy.

Seth closed his eyes and fisted his fingers in his hair, trying to block out the sounds of his brothers fighting. He didn't need their bickering to worsen his headache.

 _They're always fighting, aren't they?_ The troll whispered right next to Seth's ear. _I mean, not just occasionally arguing but always fighting. It seems like you're always the one to have to break them apart, so they don't kill each other. That's gotta be rough, man. How does it feel knowing that they are_ this _close to calling it quits?_ This _close to splitting up the Shield? And where would that leave you, Seth?_

"What just because you're the Big Dog, you can tell us how to live our lives?" Dean snarled. "You're so full of it."

"I'm not telling anyone how to live their life. Why do you always have to make everything an argument?"

It was way too warm, and the air was too heavy. He was suffocating, and his two brothers were too busy bickering to notice. "I'm just heading back to the hotel." He took off towards the locker room with the intention of commandeering a ride with Cesaro.

Dean and Roman continued arguing for a few moments before Dean paused. "Wait, where'd Seth go?"

Roman turned, peering around for the high flyer. "I didn't even notice him leaving."

Sometimes, the world felt so heavy.

The air was almost electric with anticipation from both the crowd and the participants in the Shield's rematch against the Wyatt Family. Seth fed off of the energy and allowed it to fuel a flurry of opening aerial attacks against Luke Harper and Erick Rowan. And as he climbed onto the top ropes in one of the corners, he could see Roman's huge, proud smile.

Seth carefully straightened, setting himself up for a frog splash into Luke Harper when he noticed Bray Wyatt begin to run into the ring. Seth began to readjust to direct his move against Bray. However, he had to stop when Dean sprinted into the ring and begin to tussle with Bray. Seth stayed perched on the top rope, hoping Dean would just get rid of Bray and move out of the way.

Seth startled when he saw the troll hanging on the apron across the ring from him.

 _It must suck knowing that no one wants to watch you in the ring. The most original thing about you is the stupid blonde in your hair; if it wasn't for that, you'd be just another long haired, pretty boy._

Then Dean was thrown into the ropes a few feet away from where Seth was perched. Seth lost his balance completely and found himself falling off of the top rope and out of the ring.

 _That was unbelievably graceful. I hope you feel stupid down there._ The troll snorted in his ear from where he was suddenly crouching next to Seth.

 _Shut up. Shut up. Shut up,_ Seth thought. _You're not being remotely helpful right now._

All of a sudden, Harper was pulling on his arm, and Seth fumbled to his feet before Harper propelled him into the barricade. Oh yeah, he was in the middle of a match right now.

Seth was brought to his feet after Harper yanked on his hair and shoved into the ring once again.

 _Most of these people don't care if you're squashed like a bug right now. They're probably even hoping that will happen._ The two-toned troll was balancing on the top rope, sneering down at Seth.

Seth was still dazed from his earlier fall and could barely retaliate as Harper manhandled him in the ring.

 _You know, I bet Roman and Dean are embarrassed by you right now. They're probably annoyed that they have to save your ass again, bail you out when you finally tag out. Maybe they'll just abandon you and let you suffer in here for a while because you deserve it._

Seth scowled before he smirked. Harper was facing away from him, distracted by some of Dean's antics. Seth set himself up and when Harper turned around, Seth launched himself into an "enzuigiri" kick, which connected with the side of Harper's head.

Great, now he had to capitalize on the hit and drag himself to his corner to tag out. Steeling himself, he eventually propelled himself into the corner with his arm outstretched and ready to make a tag, only to find both his teammates gone.

He pulled himself up with the rope and saw Erick Rowan running towards him.

 _What'd I tell you?_ The troll screamed at him, two toned hair flying in his face. Seth was yanked away from the Shield's corner.

 _They left you alone!_ Rowan shoved him into the corner that was in between the two teams'.

 _Your one chance to tag out and neither of them were there for you!_ Rowan shot forward and tried to grab Seth's leg. Seth yanked his foot back, and the two men squared off. Seth pulled Rowan forward and dropped out of the way, so that the huge man smashed headfirst into the turnbuckle.

He sat up and couldn't help but notice the troll sniggering over at him from his place on the top rope. He sprang over to the corner and tagged in Dean before rolling out of the ring.

 _Wow, you really took a beating in there, man. Are you okay?_ The troll crouched above him again, looking almost concerned. Seth shook his head and groaned.

The troll frowned. _You know, it was pretty cold of them to just leave you hanging in there without a partner to tag out. But that's what you get when your teammates can never be one the same page. And they never are, are they? They're always at each others' throats, arguing, fighting…_

Seth rolled onto his back beside the ring. _Shut up._ Seth shook his head and climbed up to hang on the apron again.

The troll continued with no heed to Seth. _But then again, you wouldn't have even been in that position if it hadn't been for Dean interfering in the beginning against Bray Wyatt. If it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't have lost your balance, and you would have landed that frog splash into Harper or even Bray. I know you would have, but it doesn't look like Dean believed that you would have. He didn't trust you enough to be able to handle yourself. That's pretty cold of him…_

Seth watched as Bray took out Roman with a cheap shot and continued to just punish Dean in the ring.

 _You know, if Roman doesn't split up the Shield with either an attempted title run or a stint of male modeling for Esquire, I bet that Dean Ambrose will end Shield. He'll just fly off the deep end one day. His crazy self will just not be able to handle the pressures, and he won't be able to cope with the responsibilities of working with others anymore. He'll go rogue on you. And you'll be so completely screwed._

Dean finally managed to create some separation from Bray Wyatt and was moving towards Seth to make a tag.

 _He and Roman will tear each other apart. They have no respect for anyone. They can't even put their differences aside for you, the glue. They don't care that you're stuck babysitting them. Cause they don't care about you. They're looking to bail on you at first chance._

Seth jumped down from the apron and watched as Dean tried to tag the empty but oh-so-very-dense air. Dean's mouth dropped open, and he watched in complete shock as Seth turned around and started heading towards backstage.

"What are you doing?" Roman shouted at him.

Seth flung around. "I can't be the glue that keeps this together! You weren't there for me; I reached for the tag!

"The glue?" Roman repeated in disbelief.

Seth shook his head and shoved Roman before he turned away again. "You, two, figure it out! You, two, figure it out!"

"What are you doing, man?" Roman kept shouting at Seth's retreating figure. "What are you doing? This isn't in the game plan!"

No, it wasn't in the game plan. Seth couldn't even say where it came from. All he knew was that he couldn't breathe because he was drowning. The air was too heavy. The arena was stifling hot. The crowd booed him and shouted their disapproval. It was all too much.

But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't go back to the ring or backstage; he was frozen, stuck to witness his brothers' destruction at the hands of the Wyatt's… at his hands. He fought back tears of frustration when Bray Wyatt preformed Sister Abigail on Dean. Seth found himself hating the fact that Bray chose to make eye contact with him, hating that Bray seemed to just know everything from that look, and hating the big smile Bray shot at him.

Seth grabbed at his hair, still so frustrated and angry with his brothers but also conflicted. As the troll stood next to him with a big smirk on his perpetually smug visage, Seth wanted to just punch the insincerity off of that bearded face. When the lights went out, Seth found his feet and ran.

Sometimes, the world felt very heavy.

The air was so thick that it must have been denser and heavier than osmium. It weighed everything down, condensing and coating onto every surface, burdening everything, and making it so damn difficult to breathe.

Back in the Shield's shared locker room, Seth punched the tiled wall and heaved a couple deep breaths. What had just happened? What had he just done?

 _If it makes you feel any better, I think you did the right thing._

Seth scoffed and began to throw his stuff into his bag with shaking hands. _Like I care what_ you _think._ Seth shook his head and shouldered his bag. He began to walk towards the door but paused, finding himself standing in front of a mirror.

 _I think we both know that's not true, Seth,_ the troll told him.

Seth's breathing hitched; he was alarmed to see that he couldn't tell if he was looking at his own reflection or at the troll.

 _We both know you care very much what I think._

Sometimes, the world felt so very heavy.

At these times, he felt the edges begin to dig into his shoulders, and the weight would begin to cut off circulation in his upper back as he hoisted it into the air.

A part of him knew that this was a ludicrous notion. The world's round; it didn't have edges… and he was, in no way, responsible for the weight of the world. However, he couldn't help it; he felt like he was holding an entire world on his shoulders, and he was a modern day Atlas.

Unfortunately, he didn't even have the added benefit of being a titan like Atlas (or even a superman); he was just a man, just that third member of Shield.

And as such, sometimes, it was all too much, and he feared the day when he'd lose his strength and accidentally drop everything.

He thought that he almost did when he lost his head completely and walked out during that match against the Wyatt Family… Maybe he did, but he caught it soon enough. Maybe his fingers had been trembling. Maybe he had worn a mask of bravado. Maybe deep down he was panicking, afraid to lose his brothers and afraid to be forgotten by them.

Brushing those details aside, he had caught it, and that was what mattered. He still had Roman and Dean. They were still the Shield.

Sometimes, the world felt too heavy.

There were whispers in catering, in the gorilla position, in the ears of various members of corporate about Roman Reigns. He was sure strong. He was wrestling royalty. And boy, did he look like a champion? Didn't he look like the future of the company?

There were rumors being spread.

Who knows whose lips originated them?

But they were there.

They were everywhere.

"Man, Roman Reigns has potential. He has promise."

"Can't you see him going far?"

"Remember his great performance in Survivor Series?"

"Who could forget that?"

"Remember how he broke Kane's Royal Rumble record?"

"Brilliant. He eliminated 12 guys. Two of them were his Shield buddies."

"Heh, served them right. That Ambrose tried to eliminate Reigns."

"What about the other guy? If I'm remembering right, he didn't do anything?"

"Exactly, maybe he should've done something. In this industry, you have to be cutthroat. If you aren't, you deserve to be eliminated."

"No kidding. I guess you have a point; it sure served him right."

"You know, I hear that Reigns is going to split off from Shield and go for a title…"

Seth couldn't tell you when they started. He couldn't even say who started them. All he knew was the rumors were everywhere. He could hear them when he split off from Roman and Dean and was killing time before a match or a promo.

Sometimes, he would be perching on stacks of boxes and crates because at heart, he was an aerialist: out of sight and always out of mind.

But more often than not, he would be sitting in plain sight, leaning against the wall in the hallway with one ear bud in and able to hear everything. The gossipers would even make eye contact with him before continuing to gab about Dean, Roman, and his careers - about his future.

But sometimes, the world felt unbelievably heavy.

A part of him could recognize that he should voice his concerns to Roman and Dean. Maybe even ask if they could give him a little bit of a push. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for everything. Now that they had beaten Evolution at Payback, maybe Authority wouldn't be breathing down their necks. Maybe he could ask if they minded if he went for a title run, maybe focus on some solo matches for a while…

 _They'd laugh at you. Dean would get that cocky smirk on his smug face. You know, the one he usually saves for goading Evolution? He would scoff at you. Roman, on the other hand, would rumble in that deep voice of his; he'd ask you if you really think that going solo would be good for you. And you can bullshit all you want to him, to both of them, but they'd know. They know you have no chance without them. Without them, you're nothing. You're forgettable._

 _I'm not nothing_ , he thought as he washed his hands. _I'm not nothing._

 _Sure, keep thinking that… Oh shit, what's your name again? Shit, I know this. The pretty boy with the weird hair in the Shield…The one that did that ridiculous pouting walk out? I know it's not Dean or Roman; they're the ones with futures… Pazuzu? No, that's not right… Tyler?_

Seth gripped the sides of the sink and bent his head forward. _Fuck you._

Seth could picture the smug look on his face. _Why are you getting mad at me? It's not_ my _fault you're not memorable on your own. It's not my fault that you'd need to do something big to be remembered._

Seth didn't have a retort for that. He was so engrossed in his internal conflict that he didn't even notice the locker room door opening.

Sometimes, the world felt way too heavy.

Seth hid his emotions behind an indifferent mask as Triple H detailed his grand Plan B, which was Seth.

 _This…This will work. This is perfect!_

 _But betraying them? I don't know if I can do that…_ Seth ran a hand through his hair, nervously.

"Think of this as a valuable business opportunity. This will be a moment that will be remembered forever."

"I just… it all seems so harsh."

"Kid," Triple H said, clapping a hand on Seth's shoulder, "this industry is cutthroat. You need to make sacrifices in order to succeed, in order to be remembered. I know you have it in you. We both know that you're the mastermind behind the Shield, the architect. You have the most potential. You are the future of this company."

 _Seth, this is the out you need! This is what will save you from being forgotten, from being lost to obscurity, from being that lame third member of Shield, from being oh-what's-his-name?_

"If I do this... I'll make a name for myself?" Seth was studying his shoes, deep in thought.

Triple H smirks. "Everyone will know who Seth Rollins is. You won't just be the high flier from the Shield."

Seth looked up and met Triple H's eyes. "I'm in."

"Great, kid. Now this is what I was thinking…"

The world still felt too heavy.

It didn't feel any lighter when Seth held the chair in his hands.

It didn't feel any lighter when he hit Roman in the back.

It didn't feel any lighter when he assaulted Dean…over and over.

It didn't feel any lighter when he handed the chair to Randy and watched as the Viper beat a prone Roman.

It didn't feel any lighter when Triple H threw an arm around Seth's shoulders and embraced him like a son.

As Seth's breathing deepened from adrenaline or from emotion (he wasn't sure which), he couldn't help but think that now it didn't feel any lighter; if anything, the world felt heavier.

* * *

Soo... yeah... This is my take on the heel turn. I'd love to hear some feedback. Reviews would be lovely.


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